


Afterword

by deebeebird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background Character Death, Denial of Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 23:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15874137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deebeebird/pseuds/deebeebird
Summary: And Gabriel knew when he nodded in agreement that he had allowed eight years of dealing with Jesse McCree to get to his head, that he had kept loosening the leash on a former delinquent, that he would wind up paying for allowing him to see this much and get this close.After a mission goes wrong, Jesse tries his hand at being there for his boss.





	Afterword

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookedfingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedfingers/gifts).



> Written for @strangefingers on Tumblr as a thank-you for their generous donation to McReyes Charity Week! They asked me to write about the first time Jesse calls Gabriel by his first name.

 

When Gabriel had bought the clock that hung over his office door, he had found the ticking of its second hand to be endearing. Old-fashioned as it was, it reminded him of home, and listening to the soft, steady clicks could calm him down on his worst days.

But it was too loud today. The ticking took up too much space in the otherwise-silent room, and Gabriel found himself resisting the urge to hurl the nearest heavy object towards the clock. Heaving a sigh, he slumped forward onto his elbows and rested his forehead against his palms, staring down at the report on his desk without really seeing it. He had barely even begun gathering his thoughts when he heard the door slide open, followed by a familiar, hesitant jangle of spurs.

“Told you to knock, Jesse,” he said bluntly, not looking up.

“Yeah, boss,” Jesse replied. Gabriel noted a hint of caution in his protégé’s voice, and he forced himself to sit up straight. Jesse lingered in the doorway, his hat resting in the hand at his side, and the two eyed each other in uncomfortable silence.

“What is it?” the commander finally asked. Jesse cleared his throat and shrugged.

“Just…thought I should come see how you’re doing, after everything that happened,” he offered. Gabriel scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

“What, did Jack send you?”

“Captain Amari, actually.” Jesse allowed himself a small smile before gesturing at the door beside him. “Can I come in or what?” Reyes groaned quietly, motioning for him to enter. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop him either way.

“Ana’s welcome to come visit me herself,” he pointed out as Jesse flopped into the seat on the other side of the desk. “Seeing how she’s so worried about me.” Jesse’s brow furrowed.

“What if I’m worried, too?” he shot back. “Ain’t like you to take it this hard when things go wrong.” Gabriel felt a flash of annoyance rise in the pit of his stomach, but he managed to swallow it back down before he spoke.

“People died, Jesse,” he replied simply.

“It’s not the first time.” Before he remembered to stop himself, Gabriel found himself lost in a memory from years ago. Jesse, barely eighteen, shell-shocked, clothes soaked in blood that wasn’t his, Salgado’s body sinking into the mud between them. _I tried, boss, I tried to save him, he was too far gone already, I’m sorry, boss._ Here in his office, Jesse was tense and stern-faced, even as his eyes betrayed his own grief. He was a world away from the kid on his third mission with Blackwatch, watching his sparring partner die.

“It’s not,” Gabriel finally agreed, rising from his desk. And then…what? What did he say to him next? That it never got easier to watch it happen, only to get up after it was done? That he had probably seen hundreds of people die at this point, and that his memory was so full of their faces that sometimes there wasn’t room for anything else? That it was still his responsibility?

“It’s not your fault.” Jesse had spoken again before Gabriel could say any of those things, and the commander turned to find his protégé sitting up straight, his hands on the desk. “Talon knew stuff they weren’t supposed to know. That’s not _on_ you, boss.” Gabriel headed for the window now, leaning against the glass and shaking his head.

“My job,” he said wearily, “is to stay a step ahead of _them_ , Jesse. When they turn that around, that’s on me.” On the other side of the glass, the lights below seemed dim and distant. “They never should have gotten the jump on our people in Berlin.”

“I know it hurts, boss,” Jesse murmured. “But people gotta know that you ain’t gonna let this be the end. Captain Amari’s thinking you might need some time off.”

“I don’t need time off,” Gabriel replied irritably. When he said nothing else, he heard the chair shift as Jesse rose to his feet and ambled over to join him at the window.

“Gabe,” he said softly. “ _Talk_ to me.” He might as well have slapped Gabriel, with the way the commander reeled at the sound of his own name. When he recovered, he returned his gaze to Jesse, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Commander Reyes,” he corrected him. Jesse grinned openly now, shaking his head.

“Nah,” he replied. “You know better than that.” And Gabriel knew when he nodded in agreement that he had allowed eight years of dealing with Jesse McCree to get to his head, that he had kept loosening the leash on a former delinquent, that he would wind up paying for allowing him to see this much and get this close. But he nodded anyway, and kept his scowl firmly in place so that, at the very least, Jesse wouldn’t know the way that his broadening smile got to him.

“I’ll talk to Ana in the morning,” Gabriel finally said, pushing away from the window. Behind him, Jesse exhaled loudly, wondering if this strange mix of relief and disappointment was obvious on his face.

“As long as you’re talking to someone,” he answered gently. Gabriel flipped the Berlin report over on his desk. He could save that despair for another night.

“C’mon,” he grunted, motioning for Jesse to follow him as he headed for the door. “I could use a drink.” Jesse grinned and grabbed his hat from where he had left it on the chair.

“Sounds like a plan, boss.”


End file.
